


On Companionship

by Beginning_Returner



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Don't copy to another site, In which all the bros are sad, M/M, and have too many feelings, and in their trousers, for each other, in their heads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beginning_Returner/pseuds/Beginning_Returner
Summary: In 1758, the 7 Years War went to absolute shit for the Prussians, and everyone had to deal with this after their own fashion. At least they weren't going at it alone, though: bros look out for each other.Rated: Lime I suppose, for raunchy speculations, kisses, hugs, and indiscreet musingsDisclaimer: This is pure historical fiction aside from the characters, some historical events referenced to in the text, and the things I mention in my endnotes.
Relationships: Friedrich II von Preußen | Frederick the Great/Henri Alexandre de Catt, Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz/Friedrich Heinrich Ludwig von Preußen | Prince Henry
Comments: 39
Kudos: 23





	On Companionship

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to, you can feel free to follow me anytime [here](https://twitter.com/ModoruMono03) and [here](https://modoru-mono.tumblr.com/). I mainly reblog history stuff and the occasional WIP update to my next fics!
> 
> Plate illustrations are by the divine and incomparable Peanut, who can be found [here](https://twitter.com/peanutmga) and sometimes also [here](https://peanutgaga.tumblr.com/).
> 
> To those who've read this before: you'll find the last portion somewhat changed, mostly because Peanut's drawing of Seydlitz and Henri inspired me to greatly expand the interaction between the two in this story.
> 
> For those unfamiliar with D E M B O Y Z, I furnish below a list of the other persons appearing in or mentioned in the text:
> 
> [Zieten](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Joachim_von_Zieten), [Seydlitz](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friedrich_Wilhelm_von_Seydlitz).
> 
> [Keith](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Francis_Edward_Keith), [Winterfeldt](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Karl_von_Winterfeldt), and [Brother Wilhelm](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Augustus_William_of_Prussia)
> 
> [Sister](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilhelmine_of_Bayreuth), [mother](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophia_Dorothea_of_Hanover), [Fredersdorf](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Gabriel_Fredersdorf)
> 
> [De Catt](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_de_Catt), [Voltaire](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voltaire), [d'Argens](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Baptiste_de_Boyer,_Marquis_d%27Argens), [Mylord Marischal/Maréchal](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Keith,_10th_Earl_Marischal), [Prince Heinrich/Henri](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Henry_of_Prussia_\(1726%E2%80%931802\)), [Milord Mitchell](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrew_Mitchell_\(diplomat\)), [Tschiersky](https://archive.org/details/bub_gb_pss5AAAAcAAj_2/page/n125/mode/2up)
> 
> Anyone who wants to @ me in the comments because of the non-canonical ship: if the Japanese can write and produce a 2-cour animation series about how the Chevalier d'Éon henshins into his non-existent dead anime sister to fight monsters, then I am definitely allowed a non-canonical ship or two.

Late October, 1758.

The night's bitter cold had barely given way to frozen dawn when Seydlitz rode out onto the snowy hill. Zieten joined him there a few minutes later.

Seydlitz wordlessly produced flint and tinder and lit Zieten's pipe, Zieten obliging him likewise. They both looked up and watched their smoke drift across the empty horizon.

"So, how much longer do you think he'll be?" Zieten blew a wreath out onto the expanse below them.

"Not too much longer, I'd say." Seydlitz blew out another so it intersected with Zieten's before disappearing.

Zieten looked at him sharply. "You sure about this? No take-backs, you know."

"Oh I'm sure, alright, pops."

Dawn fell upon the plain, and a chill breeze came with it, scattering the powdery surface of the snow into tiny drifting clouds across the perfect whiteness of the field.

"You'd think De Catt would know better than to panic when his master disappears in the small hours by now."

The poor boy had burst in on Seydlitz's sleeping quarters and immediately fallen into the general's arms, sobbing terribly. He clung disconsolately to Seydlitz's nightshirt, whispering low: "He was on the brink again last night. I barely kept him from falling into the blackest pits of his imagination. And now he's gone again---" De Catt looked up from where he'd buried his face in the worn fabric of the garment. "Gone to reconnoitre the enemy with not a single thought for those who care about him, not a single care for his _own li_ \---" He stopped, observing Zieten getting up from the pullout bed behind Seydlitz where he'd fallen asleep after last night's afterdinner discussions had gone on too long.

"Please--- save him---" The words were muffled by the shirt once more. Seydlitz held him close and gestured frantically to the woozy Zieten with his chin.

"Handkerchief. Large one. Oh and _clean_ one, if you please."

Half an hour later, the two were watching sinuous tendrils of white drift past their mount's legs. "Save him," De Catt had said. But now, they could only wait for their commander's return, for an early snowfall had obliterated his tracks long since.

Seydlitz looked out at the forest on the opposite ridge that helped separate them from the enemy. All things considered, he could not blame his Liege for wanting to tarry in that frozen cathedral of white.

Better the silence of utter desolation than the quiet left behind by those now absent.

Zieten blew out a long drag of smoke and remarked: "Used to be a lot more of us waiting out here back in the day, when His Majesty took off like that."

Almost reflexively, Seydlitz cast a glance to his left. Ofttimes, Prince Heinrich would have been there, chatting quietly with his brother Wilhelm. Winterfeldt would be to the right, next to him or Zieten, the better to avoid Henri's jealous glances, and occasionally Keith would ride up and squeeze between them, laughing all the way. 

"You think this is cold? Try Scotland sometime."

But that unique accent, with its over emphasis on the u's, echoed only in his head, and there was nothing around them but an eddy of crystalline snow, whirling away across the plain.

"'Aint the same without 'em," Zieten said quietly.

"And I daresay a Certain Person feels the same," muttered Seydlitz, taking a very hard drag on his pipe.

"Well, no shit. Between Keith, Winterfeldt, and Brother Wilhelm, the King's lost some of his best."

"Don't forget his sister. And his mother. And Fredersdorf, for that matter."

"Oh, fuck. Yeah. Man. How deep 'dje think the pain goes? He never shows it to us, but I swear I see it in his eyes every time I have audience with him."

Seydlitz stared determinedly into the middle distance until his eyes unfocused. But in vain. He saw again the unspeakable wetness on that cheek, the elegant hand that rose in vain to cover it, the eyes...

When next he spoke to Zieten, it was barely above a murmur:

"I saw the King cry once, you know. Walked in unannounced one time on some business."

"You really have to stop doin' that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyhow, I walked in, and there he was."

Seydlitz had backed out as fast as he could, still taking care not to clink his spurs too much. And he'd had to loosen his cravat quite a bit after that in the corridor.

The emotions in those eyes had stripped his soul bare faster than any woman had ever stripped his body.

"Shit."

"Yeah, you said it. I trust you like a brother, Zieten, so you'd best not be telling anyone what I just said now."

"Lemme put it this way: you can bet on me telling if you want, but you'll not be getting any payoff."

Seydlitz punched him playfully in the shoulder, and they were both silent for a while. The weight of His Majesty's tears was one his generals had to bear in secret, lest the entire corps, who all loved His Majesty far too dearly, crumble like a sodden biscuit.

But the generals were not the only ones burdened with the truth.

"I hear he lets himself cry in front of De Catt."

"De Catt is privy to many secrets of which we do not hear. Not that he does not share them, if properly plied with drink." Seydlitz let out a thoughtful puff.

"You didn't."

"Jesus, Zieten, I was just doing my job. If I don't know what's going on in the King's head, I can't adjust my strategies to deal with his vagaries as well as the enemy's, and God knows they both have quite a few."

"Don't you dare fucking go invoke the name of the Lord in your sordid business."

"For Christ's sake, who do you think I am? Some pagan god who carries off every man and woman who seems pleasing to his eye? I didn't do anything to him besides getting him sozzled."

Catt had told him everything and then cried his eyes out until sleep took him, and Seydlitz had carried him like a fairy-tale princess back to his bed in the night.

He sincerely hoped the boy'd remember nothing of that night. In his mind's eye, Seydlitz saw again the tear-stained face that had clung to his shirt not all too long ago. Those lovely eyes had been woesomely filled to the brim with grief and terror as De Catt whispered of his deepest fear, that his master might willfully end his own---

_Shit._

De Catt had spoken freely of that terrible possibility to Seydlitz.

_SHIT._

He'd talked unreservedly of that unthinkable eventuality, _of which the general should by all means have no knowledge, had he not thought to make De Catt drunk that one night_.

 _Oh God. Oh_ God _. He knows. He knows that I know._

"Seydlitz?"

"Yeah?" Had his face betrayed anything just now?

"I was just saying--- your mucking had best not get all of us in shit."

"You know I'm careful, old man."

"In that respect, yes, perhaps you are."

"What kind of fucking vote of confidence is that, pops?" Seydlitz looked sharply at Zieten.

"The best I can give a fellow like you."

"Ugh. Shouldn't have said anything in the first place."

"Mebbe not, but I still trust you all the way on the battlefield, so all I'm saying is, don't go abusing that trust, will you?"

"Doing my best, pops." Not that he'd been all too successful so far. Had De Catt informed the King yet? Who knows what hell he'd be made to endure on His Majesty's return.

"Yeah, well, next time, try not to get unsuspecting innocents involved in your little schemes, will you? De Catt doesn't deserve that shit."

"One of the few good friends the King has left, if you ask me."

_God I should never have served him the Hungarian wine---_

"Don't I know it. I praise the Lord daily that the Swiss gatekeeper to the King's sanity still lives. But you didn't hear any of that from me." Zieten chewed thoughtfully on his pipe. "Y'know, what does surprise me somewhat is that the king hasn't made him the gatekeeper to other regions on his person yet."

Seydlitz's sigh left a large puff of cloud in the air. "The boy's innocence is all too fragile--- and he has no opportunity, between Bellona and Melancholia, to savour the taking of it."

"'Fragile'? I'd say the youngun's innocence is as solid as a brick wall. His definition of dissolution is probably 'that fellow in the village who buggers his sheep when he takes them onto the high meadow in summer and thinks no-one knows'."

Seydlitz's guffaw burst into the silent air, followed shortly by a coughing fit from swallowing his smoke the wrong way.

"Clumsy oaf," muttered Zieten, and passed him his hip flask. The container was filled at the local well since the hussar had sworn off drink, but Seydlitz was in no mood to refuse.

"So, are we betting on when His Majesty finally makes his move?" Seydlitz wondered aloud as he wiped his mouth and handed the bottle back to Zieten.

"Oh, absolutely. Five pieces of gold says he does it before war's end."

"Seven says he does it after," riposted Seydlitz.

_No bets on what he'll do to me once he finds out his secrecy has been betrayed though._

Seydlitz sighed inwardly and suddenly noticed his pipe was rather burnt down. He knocked it out and replenished it, Zieten following suit.

"Either way, the King is in sore need of some dissolute fellow to distract him from his woes."

"What, doesn't he have enough aides de camp already?" Seydlitz jabbed his pipestem in the air significantly.

"Ffft--- point well made."

"And I daresay some of your hussars are no strangers to his company either," Seydlitz raised an eyebrow at his companion.

"Nor your cuirassiers," replied Zieten jauntily, also raising a brow in answer.

They stared at each other, maintaining this questioning mien, then Zieten snorted, Seydlitz grinned, and they both burst into roars of laughter.

"Oh dear I'm falling off--- Seydlitz hold me---"

Seydlitz nudged his horse in closer. "I'll hold you steady, brother."

"Though presumably not through the night---"

"Oh stOP already, I can't see anything for these tears---"

Both continued on in this fashion for quite a while, for every time one went quiet they'd look at the other and grin, and the whole cycle began anew.

"But those fellows don't always have a lot in their heads, do they?" continued Zieten some time later, still wiping his eyes.

Seydlitz sighed. "You're right. He is the sort to have need of someone who doesn't bore him to tears in the long run."

"Unlike you."

"Shut up pops, we're not talking about me. Alright...let's go down the list, who've we got." Seydlitz would have been tempted to lean back and stretch out his legs if he hadn't been astride his horse.

"Voltaire is---"

"Voltaire is Voltaire, don't even go there."

"Understood. What of d'Argens?"

"Oh yeah, given how much that imaginary invalid is taken with emetics, you can at least always count on his arse being clean."

"Oh God damn you, Seydlitz, FFFT--- hahahahaha, not agaIN---"

But they were already off again. This time, the generals really could stand it no longer and had to briefly descend from their horses, hugging each other and laughing all the time.

Wheezing as he pulled out of their embrace, Zieten took a quick calming drag on his pipe. "Hey, how about Keith?"

"He died at Hochkirch, what about him?"

"No, no, no, not him, the elder, Mylord Marischal."

"Oooh, him." Seydlitz let out an emphatic cloud from his nostrils. "Now that'd be the right fellow to cheer the old boy up--- if he weren't over the hills and far away."

"'S not like any of us actually have the power to summon the King's favourites to, fill him with ah, good cheer anyway," mumbled Zieten around his pipestem, pointedly ignoring the splutters from the man next to him. "So why are we even bothering talking 'bout this?"

"Because I just got an idea how we could pull that off anyway." Seydlitz grinned and slipped back onto his mount.

"Really now? Do tell." Zieten did likewise.

"Once we reach Dresden, why don't we ask our boys if any of them are up for a tour of the picture gallery?"

"Don't think many of my fellows would be interested."

"Oh come now. Surely you haven't forgotten old August loved collecting paintings of undressed ladies almost as much as he loved undressing them himself. That'd provide enough interest for your men, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes, but what benefit would that serve the King?"

"Goddammit, let me finish, will you, old man? I'm just getting to the good part."

"Which is?"

"I have heard, you see, from privileged sources---"

"Whom did you get drunk for information this time?"

"May I _finish_ here? As I was saying, from privileged sources, I have heard that the King greatly enjoys visiting the gallery as well. For more than one reason, it seems. For it also contains many paintings of youths in classical attire (which is to say none at all), and tormented St. Sebastians---"

"Oh, I see. You're hoping to encounter the King "by chance" and bring him some cheer by your usual tactics."

"Still haven't finished explaining over here, pops."

Zieten fell silent at that, and even seemed to restrain the smoke from his pipe out of remorse.

"Now. As I was saying, we take any of our interested fellows on a miniature Grand Tour of the paintings, and as they survey their surroundings--- we take especial care to observe their attitudes. If some seem quite versed in the subject matter of the paintings, _and_ , if, perchance, they are covertly more attentive to, say, the paintings of the fellas rather than the womenfolk---"

"Ohh. Well, put it like that and I see what you're getting at."

"Took you long enough, numbskull. Now, once we've gathered some certain intelligence at the gallery, let's see if we can't get a couple of those art-appreciating litterati up to the King on the pretence of delivering a message of some sort, shall we?"

"Now _that's_ what I call a good plan."

"The King would say it wasn't, of course, but His Majesty seems dead-set on martyrizing himself at this point, and I'll be damned if I let him."

"We're all damned anyway if you believe the Catholics at this point."

"Which is precisely why I don't give a shit. Anyway, really wish I could be there when those fellows show up to give the king their message."

Seydlitz chewed on his pipestem and grinned.

"Just ta watch em squirm in front of a veteran."

"There's literally no way I'm going to be able to put the fear of God back into you, is there?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

* * *

On the horizon, a tiny moving spot appeared in the forest. Its speed was impressive, considering the lone rider had to manoeuvre between the underbrush as he went.

Several spots followed further behind.

"Alright, looks like our commander is back."

They both knocked out their pipes and stowed them, then reached into their saddlebags to produce spyglasses.

"You'd think the His Majesty's Reader would know better than to have a fit by now when the King disappears from his quarters in the early hours to go reconnoitre the enemy." Seydlitz squinted at the figures in the distance through his longue-vue.

"I mean, technically, he's being naughty and deserves all the scoldings he can get, but he always brings back good intelligence on the enemy too, so..." Zieten's voice trailed off as he counted the lone rider's pursuers.

Under his spyglass, Seydlitz's mouth split into a grin. "I count six so far."

"Do you," muttered Zieten.

Without taking his eye from the scene in the glass, Seydlitz wordlessly held his hand out to Zieten.

"Oh alright." Zieten slapped a bag of coins into it. "I really thought they wouldn't send out more than four."

"For a prize like that? Are you kidding me? I'm surprised we're not getting the whole army." Seydlitz stowed his spyglass and the coins carefully away.

"Right, let's get moving. The old boy's outrun them so far, but he might not make it at this rate."

"Six of 'em...we can go half-and-half, if you like."

"Are you kidding? I'm getting more than three for sure."

"Shut up and go to the Devil, asshole, that's my line."

* * *

As they left behind the blood in the snow and the panicked mounts (the stablemen would be sent out retrieve them in due course, no point in wasting good horseflesh), the king was strangely quiet.

It took a moment for Seydlitz and Zieten to notice this, since they were still arguing over who deserved credit for the last kill--- they'd both delivered an ostensibly fatal blow to the enemy at virtually the same time. But then Seydlitz finally thought to look up, and noticed that despite the fatigue of the royal mount from its prolonged gallop, the king had long since outpaced them. Seydlitz shot Zieten a significant glance and they both rode up on either side of Frederick.

"Kept us waiting there, didn't You, Sire?"

"Aye, You surely did," muttered Zieten through his moustache.

The king blinked and looked up at both of them. "Do you mean to tell me you've been out there awaiting my return the entire time?"

"It's become something of a tradition now, hasn't it?" said Seydlitz flippantly. "And it's not like we were there the _whole_ time, Sire--- only since De Catt woke us both up."

" _Both_ of you? He must have done much running to seek you out."

"Ah, well, he was spared this trouble, thankfully. I and Zieten had stayed up to discuss some serious matters, and since it grew too late for him to head back, he was spending the night in the trundle bed in my quarters."

Zieten really hadn't wanted to fall off his horse and into a snowbank in this weather. But how the devil had they managed to get into nightgowns, given how tired they were? Seydlitz made a mental note to thank his aide de camp properly later.

"...I see. But why would he come to you first?"

_Yes, why indeed?_

"Well Your Majesty, I've actually taken a liking for young De Catt. He can be quite an amusing fellow. I'd be flattered if he thinks the same of me."

_But why? Why come to me first, why come to the wanton wastrel when he could equally have sought help from practically anyone else?_

And then, the realization went like a sword of ice through Seydlitz's chest.

_Because he trusts me._

Those hazel eyes, half-blinded by tears, had looked up at Seydlitz as Catt whispered: "Tell no one, please. I fear so very, very much for His Majesty."

"Dear God." Seydlitz stared straight ahead at his horse's neck.

"Did you say something just now, Seydlitz?"

"Perhaps." Seydlitz straightened in the saddle. "I was just thinking about how fortunate Majesty is, to have someone like De Catt by Your side in this wretched war."

Frederick's eyes drifted into the distance. "De Catt is a good boy."

"He surely is, Your Majesty. Make certain to comfort the poor fellow properly later--- he seemed highly distraught by the prospect of Majesty's little expedition."

"I believe I shall."

At this point, the large head of a greyhound poked itself out of the royal coat. The king stroked it carefully. "That's right, you can come out now, Alcmène--- the danger is passed."

The dog looked over to her left where Seydlitz was riding, and Seydliz grinned and leaned over to scratch between her ears.

"Who's a _good_ girl? Who's a _really_ good girl? Who's the _best_ girl in the world? Thanks for your service, ma'am--- I'm certain you did your master many an admirable turn out there."

_Like keeping him sane, for instance._

"Seydlitz, is there a point to this?"

"Yes Sire, I'm telling Your dog how good she is and she's accepting the affection because she likes me."

"Her and 5000 other women," remarked Zieten from the other side.

"God damn it, Hans, shut your whore mouth---" Seydlitz turned his mount and gave chase to Zieten, who pranced merrily away from him, cackling all the while.

The dog seemed rather concerned as she looked up at the king.

In the distance, Seydlitz had somehow managed to get Zieten into a headlock while still on horseback.

"Don't mind them, Alcmène," Frederick said stroking her muzzle. "They're always like that." He smiled faintly.

Zieten was turning rather red in the face as Alcmène started to wriggle under her master's coat.

"Right. As Seydlitz said, you've been a good girl, so I really should let you out now."

Frederick carefully swung his leg over his mount and released his dog the minute he stepped down.

"Come, walk with me," he said, leading his mount by the reins past the scrapping duo. "Spare your horses for a while, will you, you'll need them again later." He patted his own on the neck, then glanced back. "Alcmène, are you coming?" 

Alcmène looked up from where she'd proudly defecated in a snowbank.

"Ah, of course. You did well to hold out that long."

Seydlitz wriggled out of his cloak as he dismounted.

Frederick looked at him rather concernedly as the general unbuckled his breastplate and fed the straps through the front of his saddlebags. "Won't you catch cold like that?"

"Majesty is unfailingly kind to worry so constantly about the health of his men, but what of Majesty's own person? Sire has not taken half the exercise we have, and Majesty's personal four-legged warmer is no longer within reach."

The warmer in question had run between them, having decided that attention from two people was better than one by far.

Frederick leaned down to pet her back. On standing, he wavered and fell straight into Seydlitz's hastily presented arms.

"How cold Majesty is! Sire should really get some more rest--- one becomes feverish so easily when one is tired. Zieten, come here, will you? His Majesty the invalid requires another blanket."

"Are you seriously asking me to be a quilt?"

"For the sake of His Majesty, most assuredly."

It all happened rather too quickly for the Majesty in question to protest. Strong arms linked around him fore and aft, surrounding him in their embrace. They smelled of sweat and horse lather and the residue of smoke from their pipes but he was just as drenched from his exertion, and the smoke was only a faint musk on his nostrils. 

He was with his men and they were with him. He shuddered, swaying in the circle of their arms.

Their very shape against him---

It was too much.

They were so warm---

Seydlitz ventured a glance and saw the King had closed his eyes. From this distance, the veins in his eyelids were incredibly delicate, like some eccentrically painted variant of the China cups all princes were going mad for these days.

The King let out a long, choppy sigh. Seydlitz smiled inwardly as he felt Frederick's cheek take heat from his.

Then a loud bark brought them all to attention. Alcmène was clearly objecting to the lack of caresses directed at her. All three of them smiled, and patted her firmly, and carried on home without another word.

* * *

At the edge of the village where they'd overnighted, a heterogeneous mix of people had come out to greet their arrival.

Seydlitz smiled when he espied Heinrich standing at the edge of the crowd, trying very much to pretend he wasn't really there. Somewhat more to the centre was His Majesty's gaggle of aides de camp, with Sir Mitchell at their front plainly expending every effort to ignore their jostling. And foremost among the ranks of those waiting, of course, was a slight, plainly dressed figure. Milord was clearly at pains to keep said figure at some distance from the aides de camp, having surreptitiously placed his arm around the other's waist to guide him away from the mass.

At sight of the King, De Catt could not restrain himself and broke into a run. Then he remembered his manners and stopped short just in time, three paces away from Majesty, and executed a bow.

Frederick doffed his hat to him and smiled, the first real smile anyone present had seen on his face all year.

"Stay with me for now, will you?" His arm went around De Catt's shoulder as they passed through the crowd.

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

* * *

Seydlitz immediately tailed off to consult on some matters of importance with Prince Heinrich. The discussion dragged on, as they tended to do, and the prince ended up accompanying him back to his quarters.

"Tschiersky!" he shouted on entering the house. As always, the shout was unnecessary, for his adjutant had already materialized at his elbow, after discreetly bowing to Henri first.

"Yes, your Excellency?"

"Get me the washbasin, the natron balm, and a fresh change of undershirt. His Majesty had Austrians on his tail, and I've worked up far too much of a sweat already today." Seydlitz dug in his pocket and fished out his watch as Tschiersky flew off to gather the requisite items.

"What time is it anyway?" He popped the case on the timepiece. "Shit, it's already past eight. Tschiersky!"

The adjutant hastily deposited soap and the salve next to the washbasin and hurried over to help his master undress. Seydlitz glanced over his shoulder at Heinrich, who'd been mutely contemplating the whole proceedings. "Apologies I haven't a screen or anything fancy here, but we're all among men anyway, aren't we?" He chuckled. "I just remembered I've seen more of you than you probably have of me. It's high time I redressed that inequity. And I dare say Henriette would agree." He grabbed the washcloth from the basin and quickly proceeded to soap down his armpits.

"Henriette, Excellency?" asked Tschiersky rather hesitantly, holding the drying towel as he waited for his master to finish washing.

"A long story that, Tschiersky, involving a certain mysterious lady---" Seydlitz winked over his shoulder at Henri--- "at an officer's ball, many years ago."

Normally, the prince would have spit fire at such a blatantly public indiscretion, but in that moment, he found himself rather paralysed by the fleeting glimpse he'd just been afforded of Seydlitz's left nipple and the halo of blonde hairs that surrounded it.

Dried off and with thoroughly reapplied deodorant, Seydlitz quickly motioned for Tschiersky to help him with his new undershirt. Once the adjutant had gotten it over his head, he turned back to face Heinrich, unbuttoning his trousers to better tuck the shirt in as he did.

"All in all, it's been a rather dismal year, hasn't it, Highness?"

"Did you expect it to be otherwise, given our current straits?" Henri managed to keep his voice even despite having briefly caught sight of that glorious tow-headed ruff below the general's navel.

"Well, not really, but--- our losses have been extreme, this you cannot deny." Seydlitz shrugged back into his waistcoat, held behind him by Tschiersky. "Keith and your Highness's brother alone, are casualties we truly could not afford." Tschiersky held out the general's coat, and he entered it one arm at a time, waving off the aide de camp's attempt to button it in favour of doing the job himself. "Get me my sword, will you?"

"You speak truly, Seydlitz." Henri looked down at the wooden floor of the house, polished to a faint shine by the feet of many generations of residents. "Sometimes, even I know not how this will all go on."

Seydlitz walked toward his Highness, the harried adjutant handing him his sword before hastily bowing and taking his leave from both of them. There were far too many things that still needed packing before the army's departure, and Tschiersky was already behind schedule thanks to Seydlitz's sudden appearance.

The general smiled at Henri as he untangled the sabre's belt. "Well, I am no miracle-worker, and have no permanent solution for any of this. But," he continued more quietly, "I and some of the others were planning an excursion to the painting gallery once we arrive in Dresden, to enlighten and distract our minds with art. Would Highness care to join us?"

"Oh Seydlitz. I would be glad to attend. You always think of everything." Filled with emotion, Heinrich seized upon the general's lapels. Seydlitz looked down at him, bemused. "I do try, your Highness." Then his expression changed to one of surprise, for lost in the furor of his sentiment, Heinrich had kissed him soundly. Sedylitz, though lacking experience in such affairs, generally gave as good as he got and was not remiss on this occasion either.

When the prince reluctantly ended the embrace, Seydlitz smiled. "We shall drink to Dresden in tonight's camp, then."

"Yes, to Dresden." Henri's great eyes were beaming.

The prince took his leave shortly thereafter, finally allowing Seydlitz to go and change his horse in preparation for breaking camp. He sighed. Having to deal with more than one mercurial Prince was rather tiring at times.

He was just putting his saddle on a fresh mount when he heard running footsteps approach him from behind. He conceived they must belong to a messenger, and turned back, only to descry the slight brown figure that had stood at the head of the crowd not a quarter of an hour before.

"How now? I thought you with the King."

"I was, but shortly after your return, Majesty was whisked away by various men, letters, and matters requiring his attention, and he saw himself forced to dismiss me forthwith."

"A pity."

Seydlitz finished buckling the saddle and contemplated the youth. ---No, he was a man, really, though Seydlitz could not help but think of him as a boy, not when he was yet so shy and inexperienced in worldly affairs. 'Twas a pity he was raised in such a straight-laced fashion--- with looks like that he'd have no trouble inserting himself in any gathering. Dress him as a lass for a masked ball, and he'd find many a lady or lord alike extremely willing to kiss the full bloom of those lips---

"Your Excellency, I must apologize."

"Hmm? What for?" Quite preoccupied with contemplating De Catt, Seydlitz had not paid much attention to his actual utterances.

"For causing such alarm earlier, when I intruded on your quarters."

"Oh, nothing of the sort. We here are all quite used to Majesty's little excursions by now. Kings cannot be reasoned with after all--- They go as they please, come as they please, do as they please."

De Catt turned slightly pink. It had pleased His Majesty to embrace him before relieving him of duty just now.

Seydlitz grinned and grabbed De Catt by the shoulder, trapping his head under his arm so as to better ruffle that glossy chestnut hair.

"How now, what thoughts go through that pretty head of yours?"

De Catt took a while to extricate himself from under the arm, especially since Seydlitz, highly entertained, refused to let him go for the first few moments. It was even more amusing watching as he tried, somewhat in vain, to rescue his appearance and his hairstyle after fleeing Seydlitz's grasp.

But despite these indignities, he did not leave the general's side, and finally mustered his courage to continue:

"...May I be honest with you, Excellency?"

"Of course."

"Well Excellency, I just wanted to thank you." Catt's gaze was evasive and seemed to be focusing more on a buttonhole round the area of the General's neck.

"Whatever for? Minding the King is as much the duty of us generals as it is yours."

"No, no, not for that, I just want to thank you- for your friendship." The small figure finally determined to fix his eyes on Seydlitz's. "It- It was quite unexpected for me, that you should find my company agreeable, since we revolve in such different spheres."

Seydlitz stared incredulously at him.

"Well to be honest, I do not always understand the sage references to scholarly volumes you tend to make in conversation, and my French is not of the best, but that makes you no less of a friend, I'd say."

"...Thank you, Excellency."

"Think nothing of it."

"And thank you also---" here Catt glanced around somewhat fearfully and spoke rather more quietly when next he opened his mouth.

"---For holding me in your confidence regarding a certain Matter."

 _Oh God, here it comes._ Seydlitz did his best to compose his face so it betrayed nothing.

"I was distressed when I realized what I had said that night. I fear the excess of wine loosened my tongue."

Of course it had. Seydlitz had made sure he'd had drunk nothing but the finest.

"His Majesty entrusted the burden of this knowledge to me and me alone, I should not have spoken of it at all."

Indeed, he shouldn't have. When he'd confessed that terrible truth, Seydlitz had stood there, cradling the sodden, weeping De Catt in his arms, trying not to sway too much from all the wine himself, feeling the weight of those words settle around him like a miasma stronger than any liquor.

 _How dare he,_ thought Seydlitz as he looked down at De Catt now. _How dare His Majesty burden such a frail boy with the knowledge of the fatal dose that hung around Majesty's neck, ever ready should calamity overtake them all?_

"My first thought was to inform His Majesty---"

_Oh shit here it comes---_

"...but I was seized with a great fear, that he should dismiss me for an indiscretion of such a high degree. So in the fever of my indecision, I kept silent. After a time, when no rumours flew, it became apparent to me that you'd not spoken of the matter, and I was filled with such relief as I cannot say."

_Probably just as much as I am right now, holy shit._

De Catt's eyes were filling with tears again.

"Oh stop it." Smiling, Seydlitz put one arm on his shoulder.

"You cry too often already--- I forbid you to do so in my presence. If you ever cry in front of me, it shall be too soon."

Despite these remonstrations, it did not seem as though the moisture in De Catt's eyes was ready to retreat any time soon, so Seydlitz pulled him into a hug.

"Hey," he whispered, "you'll be all right. I don't think His Majesty would go off and leave you like that."

"I'd love to believe you, Excellency, truly I would--- but at times--- at times--- I know not what Majesty thinks..."

_Yeah, but sometimes, I think I do._

What had been the colour of the ribbon on which the deadly box was hung around Majesty's neck? Pale pink he'd wager, Majesty was ever extravagant even when fatalistic. After all, Frederick had spoken of death with his collar undone, the nape of his neck naked, had invited De Catt's touch---

God what games, what games did Majesty play! Why must Majesty torment the boy so?

Seydlitz contemplated the aforementioned youth for a moment. How dare he still cry and go against his orders, and how dare his weeping visage be so beautiful. Were he Frederick, he would have kissed those luscious lips a thousand times over already!

"I only wish Majesty had more men like you," he murmured, "and I, an army of them. Then this wretched war'd be done in no time, I feel."

"Truly Excellency, you are too kind---"

"No I'm not. For we are at war and every man requires all the kindness he can possibly get." A thought suddenly occurred to Seydlitz that made him recover some of his former cheer. He held De Catt at arms length and grinned.

"And speaking of which, what say you to a little excursion to view the painting gallery, once we arrive in Dresden? After all, it behooves a gentleman to view artworks and thereby improve his taste. And with your education, I'd wager you capable of identifying every pagan god and biblical episode on display!"

"Excellency, please, you flatter me overmuch---"

"How now, no answer? Yes or no?"

"Yes, Excellency, I most humbly and gratefully accept your offer." Seydlitz was gratified to see the boy smile.

"Then off with you for now, we'll be breaking camp soon. You'll just have to make do by dreaming of those antique painted beauties 'til we reach the city."

De Catt flushed briefly and ran off again after bowing farewell. Seydlitz watched him go, and wondered idly which sort of painting he preferred: those of maidens, or of youths? Perhaps both, actually.

Then a thunderclap of enlightenment descended, and he suddenly realized that his planned picture viewing party now contained not only a multitude of randy officers, but also both Prince Heinrich and De Catt, who did not readily mix, not to mention that the King was sure to put in an unexpected appearance.

"Ah well." Seydlitz looked up at his mount. "Looks like we've got ourselves into another perilous situation, old boy."

The horse snorted and looked away from him, as if to emphasize it was thoroughly uninvolved in matters involving risqué paintings and personal preferences of humans.

"I'll just have to do my best with Zieten to ensure things end in comedy and not tragedy." Seydlitz grinned inwardly, knowing the hussar general was sure to berate him for this one.

Then he fastened his breastplate and rode off to supervise the breaking of camp.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Pops/Old man:** [Zieten](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Joachim_von_Zieten) was about 20 years older than [Seydlitz](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friedrich_Wilhelm_von_Seydlitz).
> 
>  **"We're all damned anyway if you believe the Catholics at this point.":** After the victory over Fritz and co. at Hochkirch (October 14, 1758), the then-current pope went so far as to ridicule himself by sending the Austrian general Daun a blessed hat and sword, a medieval honour once reserved for generals who had triumphed over The Infidel (Mitford, Nancy. _Frederick the Great_ , 1970. p 223). The hilarity of this did not escape Fritz's men, who eventually (14 July, 1759) put on an impromptu parody play where Harlequin throws verbal jabs at "Daun" and proceeds to swipe both hat and sword from the "general" while smooth-talking him ([de Catt, Henri. 1884. _Unterhaltungen mit Friedrich dem Grossen: Memoiren und Tagebücher._ Edited by Reinhold Koser. Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 389](https://archive.org/details/publikationenaus22prusuoft)).
> 
>  **"old August loved collecting paintings of undressed ladies almost as much as he loved undressing them himself.":** [Old August](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_II_the_Strong), [his collection](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gem%C3%A4ldegalerie_Alte_Meister), and a [sample of](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Resting_Venus,_by_Jacopo_Palma_Vecchio.jpg) [undressed](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Giorgione_-_Sleeping_Venus_-_Google_Art_Project_2.jpg) [ladies](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jacopo_Tintoretto_-_Women_Playing_Music_-_WGA22668.jpg). **(All NSFW)**
> 
> **"many paintings of[youths](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Annibale_Carracci,_Amor_di_Virt%C3%B9,_Dresda.jpg) [in classical attire](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Girolamo_da_Carpi_-_The_Rape_of_Ganymede_-_WGA04392.jpg) (which is to say none at all), and [tormented](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Domenichino_003.jpg) [St. Sebastians](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Annibale_Carracci_San_Sebastiano_Dresda.jpg)" (All NSFW)**
> 
> **"There's literally no way I'm going to be able to put the fear of God back into you, is there?":** Some biographers refer to Zieten as being quite Christian in sentiment (Duffy, Christopher. 1974. _The Army of Frederick the Great._ New York: Hippocrene Books, 47).
> 
>  **"the large head of a greyhound poked itself out of the royal coat":** Yes, Fritz did in fact stuff one (1) entire long doggo down his coat for warmth and company before sneaking out to go reconnoitering and make all his generals freak out in the process (SHIT, he's _gone_ AGAIN) (Mitford, Nancy. 1970. _Frederick the Great._ London: Hamish Hamilton, 153).
> 
>  **Alcmène:** Fritz owned many, MANY greyhounds in his time. Alcmène, named after the mother of Herakles, was one of them (mentioned in a letter from him [here](http://friedrich.uni-trier.de/de/oeuvres/26/330/text/)).
> 
>  **Aides de camp/adjutants:** Personal servants to high ranking military personnel. [Personal servants to high ranking military personnel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aide_de_camp).


End file.
